


Discovering the New

by UnpreparedFangirl



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dave & Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, F/M, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Siblings, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:46:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18603895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnpreparedFangirl/pseuds/UnpreparedFangirl
Summary: When Klaus returns from Vietnam, his siblings don't realize the change right away - or how deeply his experience affected him. One by one, however, they see the pain in their brother's eyes and resolve to learn of his heartbreaking journey in 1968.





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I haven't written for The Umbrella Academy yet, so I'm super nervous. Please, please, please let me know if there's something that I do really well or really badly. As long as it's constructive, I'd be so grateful.
> 
> As a sidenote, I'm going to write as if they have more than eight days to save the world. This is not nearly enough time for all of the siblings to realize that Klaus is messed up from the war, and I wanted more time to play with. This is also going to be told in order of how the siblings realize that there's something wrong. For example, even though Luther may be Number One, he is likely to be toward the end of this fic because he's less likely to notice right off the bat.
> 
> Any scene that I take from the show will be directly quoted and I will be describing their movements as accurately as possible. With that in mind, enjoy!

Five knew immediately what had happened. Even if he couldn’t piece together exactly when or where, he knew what. The moment he ascended the stairs to find bloody footprints leading to the room of his lankiest brother, he felt something deeply wrong twisting in his gut. He wouldn’t allow his face to show it, but he was concerned. His mind quickly ran through the different options. He wasn’t even sure if Klaus was in the house when Hazel and Cha-Cha struck. For all he knew, he had been walking around, barefoot and high, and cut himself on a piece of glass. There was no reason to jump to conclusions.

Or so he told himself until he knocked on the door. Until Five looked Klaus dead in the eyes. Until he saw in them a deep emptiness he’d only found in himself. For a second, time froze as Five took stock of Klaus’ appearance. There was something far more than drug use causing his brother to look like he’d just gone through hell - or rather, through time. He forced himself to take a deep breath before starting carefully, not wanting him to startle.

“You okay?” It was the most calm and tender Five had been since his return.

“Y…. Yeah. Just a long night.” The hesitance in Klaus’ voice was all the confirmation needed.

“More than one by the looks of it.” Immediately, Five began looking for ways to poke his way into his brother’s casual exterior - fortunately, his frazzled undertones easily revealed themselves, making Five’s job infinitely easier. “Don’t remember the dog tags.”

Klaus glanced down at them, placing the tags just over his low-cut shirt. “Yeah, they belonged to a friend.” Judging by the blood, Five could figure that this was probably a very good friend. Klaus might even call him a brother, or at least, a brother-in-arms.

“How ‘bout that new tattoo?” Five knew that he had Klaus at that moment, right where he needed him to be. Tattoos don’t heal that quickly. It didn’t take being a genius like Five to know that.

Klaus took the initiative to further dodge the questioning. “You know, I don’t totally remember even getting it. Like I said, it was a long night.” He waved his hand dismissively in a feeble attempt to be rid of the boy. Five, however, had other plans.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

To his credit, Klaus merely looked at him as he sat on his own bed, far more exhausted than anyone simply “out on the town” should be. Especially with Klaus’ history of such activities. “What are you talking about?” He couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands as pure exhaustion set in.

Without answering that question, Five began. “You know I can recognize the symptoms Klaus.” At his brother’s questioning, he continued. “The jet-lag. Full body itch. The headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain.” Slowly, he watched as his brother’s face lifted from his hands in recognition. “Gonna tell me about it?” Five’s features rearranged themselves into that of as much sympathy as possible, wanting to give Klaus the space to explain his predicament.

“Your pals…..” Klaus began tentatively, “when they broke into the house and they couldn’t find you... they took me hostage instead.” A small shock ran through Five’s body as he realized that his younger (yes, younger) brother had been tortured for an indeterminate amount of time while it appeared that no one had noticed. Not a soul was looking for him as far as Five was aware. He had to quickly shake this off, though, when his next thought came surging in.  
“And in return, you stole their briefcase.” It wasn’t a question, but an expression of hope. His last words fled his mouth, nearly with no breath to carry them, as he waited to hear where Klaus had stashed it.

“Yeah. I thought that there was money in it, or I could pawn it, you know, whatever.” It’s only after a deep breath that Klaus states, “And then I opened it.”  
Five’s words left his mouth faster than he could think about them. He was desperate for answers, any answers. Excitement filled his voice as he asked, “And the next thing you knew you were - where? Or should I say, when?” His brain left no time for puzzling together what Klaus was saying and his appearance. Five just needed to know about the travel.

“What difference does it make?” Klaus’ dull voice was immediately met with Five’s frustration.

“‘What diff-’?” Pause. “Okay, how long were you gone?” The expression on his brother’s face was haunting as he informed Five of his expedition lasting almost a year. Five’s incredulous statement of, “A year?” could’ve been easily mistaken for a strange breath of air. “Do you know what this means?”

Just as quickly as Five had poked into Klaus’ defenses, new ones sprung up. His humerous demeanor fell back into place. “Yeah.... I’m ten months older now.” Five could practically feel his forehead veins popping from underneath his skin.

“No, This isn’t any sort of joke, Klaus. Hazel and Cha-Cha will do whatever they can to get the briefcase. Where is it now?” Five could see it all. If he gets to the briefcase, he can go back further. He can go back to before he left. He could figure out the cause of his worst nightmares.

His dreams were dashed, however, when Klaus replied, “Gone. I destroyed it. Poof.” Five’s anger rose to the surface faster than he could’ve imagined it doing so.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His patience had simply run thin and he could feel pockets of frustration and anger rising to his carefully controlled surface. Unfortunately, so was Klaus’ own emotions.

“What do you care?” The exhaustion in Klaus’ voice was ignored as Five latched onto the anger he was met with.

“What do I care? I needed it, Moron. So I could - I could get back. I could start over!” It was at that moment that Five realized that the conversation was over. Klaus was done talking. He had no interest in continuing the conversation at hand, especially the way it was going now. He clamored to his feet, ignoring the tirade of his shorter brother.

“Just - Just…” With one hand, he waved off the rest of Five’s angry rant. Klaus could do many things, but at this time, in this condition? Being chastised for destroying the item that had caused him so much grief was not one of them. He moved to leave his room, but not before he caught his brother’s voice.

“Where are you going?”

“Interrogation’s over. Just leave.” And with that, Klaus was gone, along with any of Five’s hopes that he would be able to fix his mistakes.

____________

It wasn’t until a few days later that he found Klaus, drunk but not high, sitting on the rooftop and clutching his dog tags. As he got closer, he could see the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Over the course of the last 72 or so hours, Five had done some digging, specifically about the tattoo still on Klaus’ left bicep. Intentionally creaking a shingle beneath his feet to give his brother some warning, he sat down.

Klaus immediately swiped at the tears, not wanting to be seen in such a vulnerable position. He took a deep, calming breath before turning to Five. Had he not known any better, Five would think that his brother simply wanted to drunkenly look at the stars. He would’ve missed the slight tremble of his lips, the water remaining in his eyes. He wouldn’t have thought twice about the shuddering breaths of his brother or the way he wouldn’t make eye contact. Now, though, that’s all he notices.

“‘Sup, bro? Coming out here for a little quality bro time? Just me and my favorite old-young bro!” Suddenly, Five can’t help but think about Klaus’ language. Finding one word and sticking to it any time he was lying or high. Or both. Now, though, Five knew this was another tell of how heartbroken Klaus really was.

“Yeah, I figured if I wanted a drinking buddy, it may as well be you.” Klaus nodded along in an attempt to convey some sort of feeling of alright. The boys fell into a deep lull as Five worked up the nerve to bring up the one topic he actually wanted to talk about. “So…. Vietnam, huh?”

He’d never seen his brother go so still in his life. He almost believed he’d died, right then, but then a single tear fell. It was quickly swiped away. “Yeah. Good ole ‘Nam. What do you care?” The last question was pointedly asked, reminding the both of them of their conversation from a few days prior. Five was smart enough not to take the bait.

“Shit.” He rubbed his face in his hands, hoping that his lack of response may be enough to prompt Klaus.

“Yeah. For the most part, yeah, it was.” Five cocked his head to the side, interested, as Klaus went on. “So much death. Too much death. I couldn’t see any of the ghosts, probably because I hadn’t been born with powers yet, but I could feel them. I could feel them watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge them.” Again, Klaus’ voice faded out.

Something was gnawing at Five, though. “For the most part?” The rest of his question went unspoken, but understood: What were the good parts of fighting in the Vietnam War?

A dry laugh escaped from Klaus’ lips. “Yeah, there were some good times. I wasn’t exactly pinned down and forced to get this tattoo, you know. All of us in the 173rd got them. We were like brothers, you know? Sometimes, we would get leave and just go to the nearest town. Typically, we drank in the nearest bars until the early hours of the morning. It was….” Suddenly, Klaus has drifted off into his memories, searching for answers to be found within them. “Beautiful.”

Five gets the feeling that getting trashed at 3AM, or later, isn’t the beautiful thing. He knows how much Klaus likes to drink, but there’s something else lurking just beneath the surface. “Beautiful? Anything else?”

The corner of Klaus’ lips twitch up, and Five knows he’s said exactly what he’s needed to say. “Loyal. To a fault. Unbelievably funny. Charismatic. Once, we got free drinks for a whole night, just because he -” Klaus’ voice immediately drops before it’s picked back up, wavering. “Just because he kept dancing with different girls who wanted to buy drinks for the big, strong soldier. He never stopped looking at me, though. Never.”

Five always suspected that Klaus was somewhat attracted to men, though he didn’t know how much. What he was more surprised about was how forthcoming Klaus was with this information. He doubted it was truly because of the alcohol; Klaus had been drunk many times before. He didn’t know why Klaus was trusting him like this, but he knew he couldn’t break that. “You loved him.” Not a question. Just a showing of fact. Just a reminder that he was there, supporting him. He wasn’t going to jump away. Hell, he knew how weird it may seem for him to love Delores. Who was he to judge his own brother?

After a long pause, Klaus nods and several more tears break away down his cheeks. “Is it strange that I still don’t think of him in the past tense? Dave’s been…. gone…. for almost fifty years and yet, I can’t even think of him as truly gone. Even if I can’t conjure him.” And while Five isn’t particularly read up on Klaus’ abilities, he does his best to find the right words.

“Just because you can’t right now doesn’t mean you never will. It took awhile for Ben to show up, too. It may have been fifty years ago, but it was also just three days ago. Give yourself a break, Klaus. You were just tortured before spending almost a year away from your home in the Vietnamese jungle. You loved and you lost.” At this, Klaus begins crying in a way that makes Five think about how desperately he must’ve needed this. “Time travel is hard, but it’s what happens while you’re there that's the hardest. You just need time.”  
Klaus remains there with his brother, sobbing his heart out under the stars, for what feels like hours. Gingerly, Five places a hand on his shoulder, and Klaus leans into the touch. It’s only until Klaus’ tears are nearly dry that Five pushes himself to his feet. “Take your time, Klaus. We’ll be here when you need us.” Just as he goes to turn away, he turns back.

“And Klaus? Dave sounds like a good guy. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him. Maybe someday, you’ll tell me more.” Klaus nods slowly, shakily breathing and leaning back against the roof. Five takes one last, long look at his brother before turning back and pulling himself into the window; as much as he wants to stay out there with Klaus, he knows his brother needs some space to process. In the meantime, he lays in bed and tries to get some sleep, even as his thoughts turn to the man out on the roof, the man only Five could recognize.


	2. Diego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Klaus asks for a ride, the day seems like it should be any other. Quickly, Diego finds that Klaus is anything but normal right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for the outpouring of love I got for the first chapter! I know it took some time for this one, but I wanted to get it right. Plus, this may be the longest chapter I've ever written. Chapter One took 6.5 pages, while this one took nearly twenty. I hope it was worth it!
> 
> I may not be posting for a little while. My graduation is coming up, meaning that finals are coming up. Right now, I gotta focus on that. My goal is for my next chapter to be out by the end of May, so watch out for that.
> 
> I also have to say that while I did use the quotes between Diego and Klaus from 1X07, I didn't use the situation. I basically just put the quotes into the situation I wanted.
> 
> Important note: I do not support incest! I don't. I don't really like the weird relationship between Allison and Luther. I do write about it (in a way), but that doesn't mean that I support. All that happens ***SPOILERS FOR THE FIC*** is Luther looking at Allison like he's starstruck. ****END FIC SPOILER**** In my opinion, this is an observation that Diego would make, even if I don't condone it. I will put "/" around those parts for anyone who wants to skip it, but it's not a very big part and not important to the storyline, so if you do skip it, you won't be missing much. Promise.
> 
> With that all being said, enjoy!

When Klaus wasn’t seen over the course of the night, everything seemed normal. Klaus was never one for sticking around for too long, always chasing his next high. Diego never had any reason to worry, other than the obvious concern for his brother’s addiction, of course.

When Klaus returned without a word, Diego was confused, but not concerned. In fact, he welcomed it. Usually, Klaus only babbled; a reprieve was kinda nice. He heard the bath water turn on and shrugged, turning back to his memories with Mom. He reflected on all of their conversations. Even in the home he’d shared with his siblings and the man who abused them all, she’d still managed to make him feel safe. And now, she was gone. 

When Klaus asked for a ride, everything seemed normal. Except for the tattoo, which Diego brushed off as not paying enough attention. And except for the dog tags Klaus couldn’t help but play with; Diego figured it was a new trend he didn’t care about. Besides, Klaus always asked for rides and always got them, even if Diego tried to say no. He had almost gotten the words out of his mouth before that stupid stutter caught hold of his tongue. Of course Klaus would jump on that opportunity. So, Diego had to go wait in the stupid car for his ridiculous brother.

When Klaus pulled himself into the front seat, nothing was normal. He simply adjusted his bag and leaned his head against the window. No commentary. No whispers to Ben. Not even a simple indication of where he wanted to go. Honestly, Diego was pretty glad; he loved his brother as much as the next guy, but Klaus was prone to talking. A lot. Besides, Diego actually had places to be. So without a second thought, he started the engine and drove.

It only took five minutes before Diego was about to crawl out of his skin. Klaus hadn’t even moved, and the silence was becoming unbearable. He radiated discomfort and confusion, while his brother radiated….. Nothing. Literally nothing.

It only makes sense that Digo be the first to break the silence. “You okay?” A sort of sardonic feeling runs through Klaus as he lifts the bottle in his hand, his first motion since positioning himself in his brother’s vehicle. It’s easy to tell how horrible they all are at emotional connection when both Five and Diego use the same words in an attempt to break down walls too thick to slice through, and much too thick for two simple words.

The only thing Number Two knows to do is fill this suffocating silence, currently being interspersed with a bottle of vodka, and the only way he knows how to do that is by goading him out of it. “Wow. This is a first.” Pause. Still nothing. “My brother Klaus is silent.” Diego silently curses himself. They’ve never been inept at talking about feelings, but Diego feels even more out of his depth than usual. Maybe because it’s Klaus and it really is a surprise that he isn’t saying a damn word. Or maybe it’s because this cloud hanging over his brother seems to extend far deeper than Diego knows he can see.

It seems as if he’s unable to stop, knowing that if he does, that heavy quiet will fall back down. “Last time you were this quiet, we were twelve.” He remembers that day like it was yesterday. As worried as he was at the time, both for Klaus’ health and his future wellbeing once Dad got ahold of him, he could see the humor now. “Ran down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels, tripped over, broke your jaw.” The memory floods back as he watched in his mind’s eye three of his seven siblings participate in a fashion show. Vanya had shyly chosen a dress Grace had picked out for her while Allison had gone the whole nine yards: dress, sparkly shoes, makeup, the works.

/

He wishes he could’ve taken a photo of Luther’s face at the moment Allison appeared. That blackmail material would’ve been pure gold. He’s never seen such a star-struck look on the face of Number One. Diego also guessed that it was around then that Allison knew that she had him hooked on her. The way his eyes lit up, the subtle deep breath he pulled in, the way he sat up just a bit straighter; it was impossible to deny that he was in puppy love.

/

Before Diego could even process that interaction, he noticed Klaus at the top of the stairs. He had no idea how his brother could stand up there with so much confidence, but even he had to admit that he pulled it off well. The only difference between his uniform and his current ensemble was the shoes, and Diego knew exactly why. If their father walked in, kicking off a pair of heels would be much easier to do than explaining a dress or, God forbid, makeup. So Klaus stood, slightly shaky, and prepared to walk the runway as his sisters had.

The moment that Klaus’ expression shifted from confidence to fear was evident. He wasn’t cascading gracefully down the staircase as if a girl ready for the prom; he was spilling over, attempting to grab anything to steady himself. Even as his siblings sprung to action, it was too late. They could only watch helplessly as Klaus formed a pile at their feet. Immediately, they pulled him up, helping him to the infirmary and leaving behind the high heels Klaus had loved so much.

“How long was it wired shut again?” New tactic. Involve Klaus in a conversation. Pull him in with a question. Make him want to talk.

“Eight weeks.” Diego nearly jumped when he finally heard his brother’s voice. He faintly recognized the raspiness as pain, but had to push that aside to respond quickly, hopeful to keep the conversation alive. He could still remember how Klaus kept trying to speak but found himself unable. Eventually, he learned how to make as much noise without words as he previously did with.

“Eight glorious weeks of bliss.” And back then, it was. Now? He would give so much just to hear the ramblings of his middle sibling again. With every passing second, Diego could only grow more and more concerned for his brother. He kept thinking of the last time he’d seen Klaus, just before those freaks in masks attacked the house. He couldn’t say where he’d gone during that fight, or after for that matter. He had no idea what was going on inside the head of the man in the passenger seat.

“Hey, just…. drop me off here.” Diego glanced over to the buildings Klaus was staring at. There was a laundromat, a VFW, and some place called “Talking Heads” on a strip together, and Diego was convinced that he would never be more confused. Klaus didn’t have any laundry, none of the Academy were close to any veterans, and he wasn’t even sure what the third building was. He silently prayed it wasn’t a brothel.

As they pulled into the parking lot, his suspicions, and concern, only grew. He pushed the car into park, allowing Klaus to open the door. “You sure you okay, man?” With that, having spoken less than ten words, Klaus carried himself - and the vodka - out of the car and toward the Talking Heads. Diego was convinced it was a brothel at this point and, resigned, pushed the car into reverse. He reasoned that his brother may be beyond help as he backed the car up. He almost drove away, too, had he not looked back and seen that instead of walking into the Talking Heads, he headed into the VFW bar.

At this point, he was done sitting and talking. Diego’s heart and mind demanded that he do something, so he did the only thing he knew to do: go and help his brother. Pulling back into the parking space, he shut the car off and climbed out. His mind was racing with possible reasons for Klaus’ peculiar behavior. First, he wouldn’t speak and now he’s in a VFW. Didn’t he know that’s specifically for veterans? What was Klaus playing at?

He entered the building to see the group of vets before him eyeing his brother, and for good reason. Not only was he at least thirty years younger than everyone in the room, but he was also standing in front of the photographs and crying. In all of their time growing up, Diego had seen his brother cry only a handful of times, and at least half of those were immediately following his “individual training” time.

Nodding at the few veterans making eye contact, he approached his brother carefully. He watched as Klaus pulled a badge from the unfamiliar pocket of his sleeveless green jacket. He pressed it to his lips, returning to stare longingly at a photograph Diego could never recognize. After giving him these few moments, his hand clasped down on Klaus’ shoulder.

A startled gasp escaped from Klaus’ lips as he turned to find Diego before quickly returning to his photograph. “Just go away, please.” The words carried with them a strange emotion. Frustration rested at the surface level, but it wasn’t difficult to dig deeper to find trace amounts of desperation and sadness. It seemed that even deeper, an emotion akin to longing lived.

“Not until you talk to me.” Diego had never been good with words of comfort, but he did know how to listen. Having a brother like Klaus, a brother with an endless stream of thoughts and words, definitely helped. He felt Klaus’ shoulder rise up and down before he spoke again, sarcastically asking if Diego was threatening him. It felt like they were kids again, doing their typical back-and-forth, until one veteran spoke up.

“Hey, guys. This bar? It’s for vets only.” Diego definitely knew that, but the weird thing is that Klaus seemed to. Unfortunately, the question remained of why Klaus would go into a bar that’s just for veterans. His question was answered a moment later as Klaus still faced his photograph.

“I am a vet.” Diego wore a look that couldn’t be described as anything less than controlled disbelief and suspicion. His brother? A veteran? Klaus had been called many things over the years: Number Four, The Seance, the junkie, the Human Ouija Board; never had he called himself a veteran.

The man seemed to echo his disbelief, scoffing. “Really? Where’d you serve?” Klaus had no problem keeping this a secret, however, and that was when all Hell broke loose. This veteran’s jovial tone took a drastic turn. “You got balls comin’ in here, pretendin’ you’re one of us.”

Diego, leaning against the pool table behind him, registered his brother’s words at the same time he took a good look at his face. He hadn’t really seen Klaus since he entered his car, but now? Not a hint of dishonesty presented itself on his face. Over the years, Diego had gotten pretty good at covering for Klaus’ lies, primarily because he recognized the signs of them. Now, though, it seemed that Diego was either very out of practice or he’d entirely missed Klaus going to war.

“Oh, I have every right to be here, just like you.” They came face-to-face and Diego prepared himself to pull his feistier brother away. “Asshole.” The word spit from his mouth in a way that only Klaus had in him. With that, the vet stepped closer and Diego stepped in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. Slow down, Marine.” He calmly, yet firmly, placed a hand on the man’s chest, still not entirely sure what was even happening. Was his brother actually picking a fight with a marine? The Klaus he thought he knew would never dream of that unless it was to get drugs. Even then, he might think twice. But the Klaus in front of him was willing to fight this man just to cry over a photograph. “All right? My brother’s just had a few too many.” Deep inside of him, his gut twisted. Usually, this wouldn’t feel like a lie. For some reason, though, he knew it couldn’t have been anywhere near the truth. Even if he had been drinking. “Let’s just call it a day and all go our own way.” When the vet in front of him agreed, Diego wanted to hug him. He just needed to pull Klaus out of there and probably smack him upside the head. “Klaus-”

“As long as you apologize.” Immediately, his stomach dropped. Klaus may be something of a liar, but he knew that this wasn’t one of those times. And because he knew that, he also knew that dragging an apology out of his brother would be akin to pulling teeth. Even if he didn’t know that, though, the giggle erupting from Klaus’ lips was enough of an indication.

Instead, Diego had to swallow his pride, forcing it to live nearer to his toes than his lips, as he said, “Fine. I’m sorry. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry. So… are we good?” He watched the Marine’s face carefully, knowing even before he opened his mouth that it wouldn’t be.

“I want to hear him say it.” Even if his brother were in the wrong, Diego couldn’t stand the way that this stranger stabbed his finger toward his brother. It was as if he were trying to shove the weight of the world’s offenses onto his shoulders.

“Hey, man, I’m just trying to -” As he attempts to fix this, he’s interrupted by the person he least expects.

“No, no. He’s right, Diego. He’s right. He’s right.” Stunned, the knife-wielding brother steps back to his previous spot. He feels some sort of pride as Klaus says this, though it doesn’t last long. “I’d like to apologize…. that you…. are depriving some village of their idiot!”

Diego definitely didn’t plan on getting into a fist fight today. Even lower on the agenda was getting into a fist fight with veterans. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t step in for his brother when he’s needed, which is why he - without hesitation - proceeds to beat the shit out of a couple of men who have fought harder for this country than he has.  
___________________________________

As the two brothers sat in the car, catching their breath following the events that just transpired, Diego couldn’t help but stare at this man next to him. Who was he? He certainly didn’t seemed to be the strung-out Klaus he was used to these days, nor was the the joking, jovial brother of seventeen years ago. Whatever had happened in the past night had birthed this stranger, and Diego wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about him.

As seconds passed into minutes and their heart rates fell, they remained in silence, trapped in their own worlds. With seemingly no prompting, the silence was broken by giggles pouring from Klaus’ lips. “You got a big mouth, you know that?”

Humor laced Klaus’ reply of, “Oh, wow. What a truly shocking revelation, Diego.” The sound of plastic piqued Diego’s interest as he turned back to his brother.

“Everything’s a big joke to you, right?” It was at that moment that he saw the drugs. “Would you stop it?” He managed to tear the package away from the man he still continued to see as just “the junkie”. In a show of something at least slightly predictable, Klaus began to pound his fists on his thighs, pouting just like he did when he didn’t get his way as a child. “Why are you putting this shit in your body?” Klaus bit back his reply, simply blowing out a raspberry in frustration. He wanted to scream, to remind Diego of why exactly he continued to feed his body more drugs than he even knew to count. But he couldn't.

“Check this out. Hm?” Diego lifted his jacket to reveal the form-fitting outfit he’d effectively been living in for a decade. Klaus barely managed to roll his eyes, knowing that while Diego did want to talk to him, he also kinda wanted to show off. “My body is a temple.” He pushed his jacket down before reiterating what he’s always said to Klaus whenever he’s been called on for a ride. “All that shit you do, it’s just weakness.”

And yeah, it stung. It stung to know that his brother could only see him as weak when he’d gotten so much stronger in Vietnam. More than that, it stung to be reminded of how little his family listened, or cared, about his “power”. About the reason for his addiction. “Oh, wow, beautiful.” Instead of try to explain, he did the only thing he felt that he could: he played his part. “Well, weakness feels so good.” Another baggie is released from his pockets and another baggie is knocked by his hands.

“What’s goin’ on with you? Huh?” Diego was so incredibly frustrated. He’d been guilted into giving a ride he never wanted to give and gotten into a fist fight with veterans; he still didn’t know why any of that had happened.

“Don’t hit me, asshole!” First Five, now Diego? He really was being hit on every front he could think of, and at this point, he just…. exploded. His Sergeant always said he let his emotions get the best of him, and here he was proving him right.

“Don’t tell me everything is alright, because I saw you in there. You were crying like a baby!” The moment those words were out, Diego knew that he meant them. The concern in his voice was palpable and he just wanted his little brother to talk to him.

“Because I lost someone!” Well…. He wasn’t expecting that. As soon as those words flooded his system, everything changed. Klaus looked him dead in the eyes, and it wasn’t difficult to see straight through to the pain before the softest sigh escaped from him. He watched as Klaus flopped back, the anger in the car evaporating as if it had never existed to begin with.

Because Diego knew loss. He really did. His mom and Eudora dying within two days of each other reminded him of how difficult it really was to lose someone. Especially someone that was loved as much as Klaus obviously loved this person. He took a deep breath and refused to look away, even as Klaus did.

“I lost someone.” The only emotion to be found in his voice was sadness. He’d never heard it in such a pure form like this before. “The only…” It was obvious that Klaus was choosing his words carefully. He exhaled as if his breath alone could bring back the sun, if only he had enough; maybe Klaus believed that, too. “The only person I’ve ever truly loved more than myself.” Suddenly, Diego feels as if he’s intruding in a private moment even though he’s the only other person in the car. He can’t help but look away, staring at the steering wheel with shock evident in his dropped jaw. Beside him, Klaus had unpackaged another pill from his pocket, but Diego barely even registered it. “Cheers.”

Soon, Diego comes back to reality, managing to form a coherent thought. “Well, you’re luckier than most.” He wants so badly to keep the emotion from leaking into his voice, but it seems nearly impossible. “When you lose someone, at least you could see them whenever you want.” Something inside of Diego is pulling to continue this thought, maybe even relate to Klaus through Eudora, but his eye is caught first.

As he checks the rearview mirror, it’s evident that he’s found exactly who he’s looking for. “That’s our man.”

Immediately, Klaus goes to look before he’s hit with a wave of devastating memory. “Hey. I know that guy.” He’s met with confusion pouring from the driver.

“How could you possibly know that -”

Before he can think, Klaus has stumbled over his sentence. “He and a really angry lady tortured me.” Diego casts his gaze at Klaus, unsure of what to say. Losing someone, while a difficult topic, is at least a relatable one. But this? Klaus is actually saying that this man tortured him? “I barely got out with my life.”

Now filled with a renewed vigor, Diego starts the engine. “We gotta get this guy.”  
________________________________________

Once again, silence fills their car before Diego can even register it’s there. And now, it’s back. Sitting on his chest. The only word floating around in his brain is “torture”. “...tortured me. I barely got out with my life.” It felt as if he simultaneously latched onto the word and couldn’t quite grasp it.

“When exactly did this whole ‘torture’ thing happen.” He had hoped that saying the word would rid it of some power, but instead his throat only restricts slightly. He swallows down his emotions, trying to focus as much as possible on the road.

“Depends on who you ask. They would definitely say yesterday.” Yesterday. It’s said with such a calm tone. As if it’s no big deal. And maybe it isn’t. Maybe Diego doesn’t know Klaus as well as he thought he did. Five minutes ago, he would’ve figured that Klaus would’ve paraded in, making a scene of it. Now, he can’t be sure.

“And you?” What would Klaus say? Klaus was theatrical, sure, but his words sounded foreign.

“Longer than that.” Diego wanted to roll his eyes. Leave it to Klaus to be this cryptic about something serious. As much as he loved his brother, he kinda just wanted to hit him at this point. As soon as the thought floated across his mind, though, he practically flinched, unable to think of any word but “torture”.

“So, what exactly did they do? Knock you around a little bit?” He hoped that his jovial tone was thick enough to hide his morbid curiosity and the continuous ache of his heart toward vengeance.

“Yeah, a little of this, a little of that. Standard torture techniques.” This threw Diego for a loop.

“Standard?”

“Yeah, you know. Punching, slicing…” Pause. “Waterboarding. Stuff like that. No big deal.” Diego’s foot pressed too hard on the break, causing the car to lurch. He would’ve simply stopped the car, right there in the middle of the road, if it hadn’t been for the car right behind him honking. Again, they moved along, but all Diego could do was go through the motions.

“No big deal.” Klaus nodded to the side. “You were waterboarded, and it’s no big deal.” Another nod. The only sound other than the world outside of Diego’s car was breathing. Klaus’ was slow and deep, sounding as if he’s trying not to startle a wild animal. There’s an underlying desire, though, to suck all of the world’s oxygen through his nose, almost as if he would never get any again.

Diego, on the other hand, is trying to calm his breath as it pushes itself into his lungs and back out quickly. His heart feels as if it could burst with rage, though he tries to control it. God knows Klaus doesn’t need anything else.

“I didn’t know.” None of them did, he was certain of it. Even after that morning’s meeting, none of them had even registered that Klaus was gone. It hadn’t even crossed Diego’s mind that his brother was getting high; Klaus hadn’t registered. Of course, he could justify it, telling himself that Five was the issue being pushed in front of his face, Five was more pressing. But he knew it was a cop-out. Their first priority should’ve been checking on each of his siblings.  
“I know.” Klaus doesn’t sound angry, though. He sounds resigned. “If it helps, your lady cop saved my life. I’m so sorry that she ended up sacrificing her life for mine. I didn’t want that.” There was no time to grieve, Diego told himself as he turned right. No time to feel this pain, even as his vision clouded with tears he swore he wouldn’t shed until this was over.

“She would do it again. I know she would.” Another nod is earned before the two pull into a parking lot, attempting to camouflage the car behind an ice cream truck. Diego clears his throat before stepping out of the car, effectively ending that conversation for the moment.  
________________________________________

Night falls and Diego is restless. He can’t help but feel desperate for answers that may never come to light. He’s glad that he spoke to Klaus about his torture, but…. he hasn’t even come close to addressing the crying. He really doesn’t want to; really, he’d rather have a conversation with Luther without dissolving into a fight. But a part of him is aching to know if his fight with veterans was…. well, worth it. He doesn’t think that his brother would react that way with a vet, but he’s not totally sure. Even after their conversation in the car, his suspicions simply won’t stop creeping in.

He tells himself that these are logical reasons to be lowering himself from the roof at 2AM, even with an injury. He just wants to find out whose dog tags those are, maybe look ‘em up. Get some answers.

As he drops down lightly, gripping the window sill, he winces. Even a graze like that hurts like hell. Short of knocking him out, Diego knew it would hurt. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

Slowly, carefully, he tugged the window up and pulled himself into the well-lit room of Number Four. A small grin graced his face as he looked around. Their father hated Klaus’ decorations, but Diego was honestly impressed. He would never have the courage to put his entire personality on display the way that Klaus does.

His eyes drifted over to the bed to find….. No one. His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Klaus doesn’t need to sneak out anymore, so why did he bother coming home if he was just going to quietly leave to go get drugs? Diego nearly left before hearing a sound from under the bed. Crouching down, he took notice of the familiar form.

Klaus lay on his side, facing the room, with only a blanket under his body. Diego’s heart panged violently in his chest as he sat and watched the movement of his brother’s chest. Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. The rhythmic pattern lulled Diego into security as he lowered his body down to sit on the floor.

Just as his full weight hit the floor softly, Klaus’ eyes flew open and a fist was connecting with Diego’s hip. “Get the Sergeant! We got a Cong in here! Help!” He’d never heard such a desperate scream pour from Klaus in his entire life. His fists were still being swung, landing each time despite Klaus’ obvious lack of awareness.

Pushing himself flatter, he deftly gripped his brother’s wrists, keeping them away from his body. “Klaus. Klaus. It’s just me. It’s just Diego. You’re right here, back at home. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Diego was way out of his depth. He didn’t know how to talk someone down from this. He wasn’t even sure if he could do this. He only knew how to sit here, talk way more softly to his brother than he could ever remember doing so before, and keep the fists away.

Klaus was getting softer as well, though his words kept changing. “Dave! Dave! I need you! Oh, God, I need a medic! Dave! No! No, no, no….” It wasn’t long before his cries of denial turned into sobs as his whole body shook with denial. “Dave….” The only thing that he knew to do was let go of his younger brother’s wrists and sit silently until he came to.

It took nearly ten minutes for the sobbing to stop, and even then it appeared to be solely due to a lack of tears. After another minute or so of dry heaving, Klaus’ breathing began to level out, showing Diego that he was back down to earth. He took advantage of this by lying down, facing his brother.

“Hey. It’s Diego.” This earns a small nod. “I’m gonna sit on your bed. Come join me when you’re ready.” Normally, these words would leave his mouth with a bite at the end of one of the many battles between himself and Luther or Eudora or another member of the force. Now, they feel…. fuzzy.

True to his word, Diego gently sat amongst the fairy lights and cute stuffed animals littering Klaus’ bed. He grabbed one, pulling it toward him, and glanced around the room at the different posters and works of art collecting on the walls before him.

It felt like an eternity of moments passed before Klaus pushed himself out from underneath his bed, breathing deeply. Shakily, he pushed himself off of the floor and unceremoniously flopped down on the bed, grabbing a pillow and keeping himself at least six inches from Diego. “You saw all of that?”

If Diego wasn’t concerned before, he most definitely was now. “Yeah. We don’t have to talk about it. I mean, we can.” Diego cannot remember a single time that he’s felt so uncomfortable, and that includes the time that most of the academy walked in on Eudora and him in a… compromising position, so to speak.

“I don’t even know what happened.” Diego took this as his cue to ask the questions, knowing that Klaus may never really explain - at least in this state - unprompted. He’s seen his brother like this only one time, after training with Dad. He never found out exactly what happened, but he did manage to pull Klaus out of his trance enough to be a functioning human.

“You mentioned a ‘Cong’... Is that the Viet Cong? Of the Vietnam War?” A silent nod. “Where have you seen an actual member of the Viet Cong?”

“Vietnam.” Diego almost sighs in relief at Klaus’ one-worded response. While just a few days ago, he may have felt concern at such a brief response, it’s so much better than the nods he’s been receiving.

“When were you in Vietnam?” He shifted slightly, getting a better view of his brother’s profile.

“1968.” The quiver in his lip was more than enough evidence to show that Klaus was broken. Dear Ol’ Dad had pushed them all hard enough to know that crying was unacceptable. Even Klaus knew it. For him to be crying here, especially in this house, meant that something was shattered.

Even more upsetting was that number. 1968. An entire “person-who-can-drink” older than all of them. When, and how, did Klaus get to 1968? “That’s a long time ago.” He almost wants to cringe at the honey in his voice, not used to speaking this sweetly to anyone but Mom. “How long were you there?”

He can hear Klaus’ throat unstick from itself as he opens his mouth to answer. “Ten months.” An lightbulb flickered in Diego's mind, reminding him that while his torturers may say that the event occured yesterday, Klaus had said that it was a long time ago. Ten months definitely seemed long enough.

“How did you even get there?” A joke about Five leaving him there dies on his tongue. He’s not sure if he can joke about anything yet. Klaus is usually the one who deflects with humor. With him out of commission, Diego can’t help but feel the need to fill that role for just a few moments.

“You remember Hazel and Cha-Cha?” A nod confirms, ready to hear this new information. “After your friend saved me, I climbed through the vents. There was a time-traveling briefcase in it.” Diego’s eyebrow couldn’t help but quirk up. Who exactly did Klaus think he was playing?

It only took another look at his brother before Diego reconsidered that thought. Even if it were a drug trip, which was unlikely due to the…. horrific way in which his brother had gotten clean, it probably wouldn’t be as potent for him. Klaus’ shouts seemed less like a fever dream and more like a memory. Besides the fact that Klaus didn’t really seem present enough to be lying to anyone, let alone Diego.

“And you opened it?” A single tear makes its way down Klaus’ cheeks as he nods. Diego waits for more, but it’s evident that he’s done with this line of thought. “Who’s Dave?” Suddenly, Klaus’ demeanor shifts toward something looking kinda like… happy. His lips quirk at the mention of his name and his dark eyes shine a little brighter.  
“Dave was in the 173rd with me. He was....” Diego waits for Klaus to find the right words. “He was amazing,” he finally settles on, seeming to hold something back.

“Must’ve been more than amazing if you’re talking about him in your sleep.” He manages to muster up enough courage to gently bump his shoulder with his brother’s, trying to show that he was there for him. 

“He was kind. And strong. And vulnerable.” Klaus takes a deep breath, seeming a million miles away. “And beautiful.” And that’s the exact moment that it clicks in Diego’s head just how special Dave was to Klaus. A memory hit him of his brother confessing that he preferred his sisters talk about boys than vice versa. Diego always assumed that it was so that he could hear what girls must think of him. Now, he’s stuck with the understanding that he is a complete and total idiot.

“I was foolish enough to follow him all the way to the front line.” The front line? As in, the place where people get shot at? Diego remembered thinking that he didn’t know his brother now; at 3:00 in the morning, he knows that he’s right.

Diego showcases his incredulousness as he speaks. “You fought in the shit?”

Klaus turns just enough to make eye contact, appearing so much better than a few moments ago. “Oh yeah, baby.” There’s the eye waggle he’s been missing. It’s small, but it’s just enough to allow Diego to breathe a sigh of relief. It also fills Diego with enough courage to continue this conversation.

“How’d they let you do that?”

“Let me? War couldn’t take enough bodies, please.” A scoff falls from his lips before they turn somber again. “Including his.” Silence fell back down as Klaus dissolved into silent tears. Trying to respect his brother, Diego turned away just enough that Klaus knew he was there, but not wanting to intrude. After a few moments, a hand wormed his way into his, and they remained like that for what seemed to be an eternity.

Once Klaus’ breathing has settled, Diego knows that he has to push for just a little more information. “Is that why it depends on who you ask? About your…” Torture. “Time with Hazel and Cha-Cha?” Again, Klaus is back to nodding, though he’s anything but despondent. Now, he knows that he’s feeling every emotion possible right now and it kills his brother that he’s incapable of helping.

“Can I ask you something else?” A shaky breath is drawn in before Klaus bobs his head once. “Why were you under your bed?”

Surprisingly, a small, humorless laugh finds its way from Klaus’ mouth. “I’ve been homeless for years. And then, I was in Vietnam where I slept on a cot. I guess I’ve gotta get used to beds again, you know?” And somehow, he did. When Reginald never showed them love, they didn’t learn how to show love themselves. When you’re deprived of a necessity for so long, it seems that the brain will go as far as it can to keep you from feeling like you need it. For Diego, it was the difficulty he had with showing Eudora love. For Klaus, right now, it was a bed. But Diego knew that for the rest of Klaus’ life, it would also be Dave.

No more words were spoken between the pair and Klaus eventually slumped over and lay his head on his brother’s lap. Diego brushed his fingers through the curly hair on his lap. He gently reached over to grab and read one of the two dog tags from around Klaus’ neck and read all of the information he had about Dave Katz, the love of his little brother’s life.  
_______________________________________

A few mornings pass before Five makes his way down the stairs to the breakfast table, groaning. “Rough night? Did you and Delores have a fight or something?” Diego snickers at the thought.

“Not exactly. Just…. up late. Looking at the stars on the roof.” It’s at that moment that Klaus comes in, grabbing a glass of water and nodding at the both of them. As he turns his back, Diego catches Five watching Klaus with interest as if he’s a puzzle he only recently put together, now standing back to look at what the image truly is.

“Good morning, brothers mine! Any plans for the day?” When Klaus turns back, it’s all smiles with only a small trace of tired built up on his face. To the unkeen observer, everything seems to be good. Fortunately, Diego is read up on Klaus’ facial expressions.

“I was just gonna go to the ring. Al seems to think I’m neglecting my work or something, so I gotta go straighten that out.” Five pipes in, explaining how he intends on looking more through Dad’s research in an attempt to deconstruct any information their father gathered without disclosing.

Quickly, Klaus loses interest and just as freely as he enters, he leaves. It seems to Diego that Five has to physically restrain himself from showing any physical affection, which is an oddity; Five hates coddling. It’s at that moment that a lightbulb clicks on in Diego’s brain. “You know.” Not a question.

Still, Five answers. “I do.”

“How much?” Mom sets down identical plates of smiley eggs and bacon before each of them and they begin to dig in.

Five waits for Mom to leave, checking on the others, before he continues. “1968.” 

“Does the briefcase really…?” Five gives a curt nod, silencing the end of that question. Diego nods in response, appreciative that there’s another sibling looking out for the wellbeing of their most eccentric, and now most broken, brother. They continue to eat their breakfast in silence, though this time it’s anything but than stifling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! As always, please leave your questions, comments, concerns, and kudos below! I hope you all have a great rest of your day and pass all of the upcoming tests you may have.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I hope you all liked it! This plot bunny had been eating at me for a while, so I'm excited to continue. Don't forget to comment and leave kudos! 
> 
> Up next will be Diego and Klaus!


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